Tag Archives: neighbors

NASTY NEIGHBOR

Sebastian slowly made his way down Main Street toward the bakery. He was looking forward to a breakfast of fresh, homemade bagels and cream cheese. He favored his right leg, as he had injured it many years ago, and it was never the same. When in the distance, he saw one of his neighbors one Jeffrey Duggins, walking towards him. Sebastian considered turning around and returning back home. He always got a bad vibe whenever he came within shouting distance of his neighbor, Jeffrey.

In fact, at times, he felt that his very life was at risk if he rubbed Jeffrey the wrong way. And as far as he could tell, everything he had ever said to Jeffrey seemed to set him off. Sebastian could say the most innocuous thing, and Jeffrey would read something nefarious into it. One day, he said, “Hello, Jeffrey. How’s it going? Did your trash get picked up yesterday? They never picked mine up?”

Jeffrey’s face distorted into an angry mask. And then he shouted,” What the hell is your problem? You’re always complaining every time you talk to me. How the hell would I know if everyone had their trash picked up or not?” Sebastian stared at Jeffrey, flabbergasted, and then shook his head, trying to clear his mind. And then Sebastian quietly crossed the street. He vowed silently to himself that in the future he would avoid any interaction with Jeffrey in the future. The guy had some serious issues, and Sebastian didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. Jeffrey was a real nutter, for sure. Sebastian often wondered what excessive lengths that Jeffrey had gone to with other people who made some harmless comment to Jeffrey.

As Sebastian crossed the street, he shook his head and thought, what in the world would make a man of Jeffrey’s advanced age act so angry and belligerent for no reason at all? Sebastian continued on his walk. And just as he was about to cross the street to his house, it occurred to him that perhaps Jeffrey’s unfriendly behavior was deliberate. And his ultimate goal was to avoid any interaction with anyone. So as not to ignite any interest or curiosity about him with any of his neighbors or people in general. Sebastian crossed the street and made the decision to ignore or avoid Jeffrey in the future. He was a bad egg, that’s for sure. As he open his back door, he could smell what could only be his wife’s delicious breakfast waiting for him on the kitchen table. There was a cover over it. His wife was several years younger than he, and she still worked part-time.

Sebastian sat down to eat his breakfast and thought, where did all the years go? How did his life fly by so quickly in the blink of an eye? This was supposed to be a time to relax and enjoy life, doing the things you loved to do and didn’t have time for during your working years. And here he was, sitting at his kitchen table, worrying about what he could and couldn’t do because he didn’t wish to awaken the Jeffrey’s ire and directing that anger towards him.

While Sebastian was sitting at the table, it occurred to him that perhaps he could invite Jeffrey over for dinner one night would win him over. His wife was a fantastic cook, and she was known to be quite the charmer with people. She could take the most unfriendly and belligerent person and win them over with her friend chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, and one of her world-famous chocolate cakes.

And the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. But, he would have to get his wife, Millie, to go along with it. She kept telling him to leave her out of this whole business with our nasty, old so-and-so neighbor. She didn’t think he was worth the trouble. And then he thought he would take a walk over to the florist downtown and buy her a dozen red roses. They were her favorite, and she wouldn’t be able to say no after smelling them and putting them in her favorite crystal vase in the middle of the dining room table.

As Sebastian was on his way home from the florist, who should he see but Jeffrey coming from the opposite direction? There was really no way to avoid him other than quickly reversing his direction and running away. And Sebastian was way past that kind of shenanigans. So, he took a deep breath and kept walking. And then he felt someone staring at him. And who was it but none other than Jeffrey? Maybe Jeffrey would keep walking and cross the street? But no, he kept walking in his direction. And

Sebastian could feel his cold stare on him. And as he got closer, Jeffrey said, “Are you stalking me now?”

“Me? Stalking you? Why in the world would I do that? Listen, I haven’t done not one thing to you. You are the one causing conflicts in our neighborhood. You antagonize everyone you come in contact with around our neighborhood. Everyone else avoids you. You are obnoxious and cause conflict with everyone. Stop blaming your behavior on everyone else. You don’t have to talk to anyone. Just mind your own business. Nobody cares what you do. Just leave everyone else alone. And then there won’t be any further problems.”

“Yeah, I bet the whole neighborhood would love to see me fall off a cliff. I guess that would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”

“No, Jeffrey, I never wished you or anyone else any harm. I have tried being friendly to you since we moved here. And you put up a literal brick wall between our two properties. And that sure doesn’t say, “Welcome to the neighborhood to me.”

Jeffrey stood there with a strange expression on his face for several minutes. It seemed like a year to Sebastian. He was about to say something else to Jeffrey, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what to say. He was getting tired of the whole situation, including the friction in the neighborhood where he hoped to live out his final years.

“Well, Sebastian, that’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s my name. I introduced myself to you right after we moved in, and you just walked away from me without saying a word.”
“Well, yes, I guess I did. I didn’t want to go through the whole rejection scenario again. It’s getting old. I thought it would be better to reject you instead of the other way around.”

“Well, that didn’t turn out too well, did it?
“No, Sebastian, it didn’t. But, I have a tendency to be bull-headed, and once I get an idea in my head, it’s hard for me to change my mind.”

“OK, well, that’s a beginning; how about we start over? My wife and I would like to invite you to dinner. How about Saturday evening? It’s my wife’s day off, and she is a fabulous cook. What do you say?”

“ I say, what time? My wife was a great cook too. But she passed away about ten years ago from cancer. And I guess that’s when I gave up on life. It just felt so empty without her by my side. And when I saw everyone in the neighborhood going out and having fun with their families, it just made me madder and madder. We were never able to have kids, and I’ve just been alone all these years. And I guess I resented everyone else’s happiness. I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, Jeffrey, I’m so sorry you lost your wife. That is a big loss. It would affect everyone who lost their closest loved one. But you just made it worse by pushing everyone away who tried to befriend you all these years. Your wife wouldn’t want you to be miserable all these years. So, why don’t we start over, and you come over tonight for a great dinner? And then maybe in a few weeks, you will feel up to coming to a neighborhood bar-b-que. There is no reason on earth for you to spend your remaining year lonely and unhappy, and angry. So, how about it? Are you interested?”

“ Yes, I would like to come over and have dinner. It’s been a long, long time since I had a home-cooked meal. I eat mostly take-out or frozen dinners.” 

“Alright then, let’s head home, and you can come over to our house at six o’clock sharp. What do you say?”

“ I say, I’ll be there with bells on my feet.” And they continued home, and Sebastian started telling Jeffrey what he had done for a living while they were walking home. And Jeffrey was surprised to find out that they had similar occupations. And he started telling Sebastian about his early years after he and his wife were first married. It turned out that they had many things in common.

 

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

LIFE’S HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

I guess you could say I’ve always been somewhat of a loner. Although throughout most of my life, I’ve always maintained a “best friend.” My best friend has not always been a fellow human being. Currently, my best friends are my dogs. And so far, they have proven to be the most loyal and loving, and accepting best friends. I suppose my peculiar ways have a tendency to “put people off.”

Watercolor I painted of my house where I grew up in and the Catholic Church that defined who I became as an adult in many ways.

Oh, you’re wondering what traits I have that put people off. Well, my sense of humor. I have to admit I’m a sarcastic person. Not mean sarcastic, but funny sarcastic. Although not everyone ‘gets” my sense of humor. I have something of a trigger finger when it comes to responding to people’s comments. It’s no sooner out of your mouth than I have a sarcastic remark to counter it. I think I’m a riot, but not everyone would agree.

And then there’s my almost total lack of interest in my outward appearance. Especially if I’m at home and working around the outside or out in the garden, I will definitely be wearing my oldest, most worn-out clothes I own. So, you happen to come over to my house without forwarning me. Well, you can expect me to look pretty much like I haven’t showered or washed my clothes recently. If you let me know you are coming in advance, you can be sure that I will take a quick shower and change my clothes. And I will have something for you to eat when you arrive. Without warning and I most likely will have an empty fridge, and you’ll be lucky to get more than a glass of water or tea. What can I say?

Downtown Maple Shade in the 1950s

Oh, there I go off the track again. I was explaining how I am somewhat of a loner and usually only have one close friend at any given time. And in recent years, most of my closest friends have been dogs, cats, and birds. And they may not even be my dogs, cats, or birds. They could very well be my neighbor’s pets. In fact, my best and closest friend when I was a young child was a stray cat named Strottles. He was an ancient orange cat. He was covered with scars from his many battles with neighbors’ male cats. He came to our side door every day and would meow until I came outside and gave him his share of hugs, scratches, and petting.

And in addition, I befriended all the neighbor’s pets, including cats and dogs. I went out of my way to talk to all the older people in the neighborhood, who often lived alone. And they were more than happy to make my acquaintance and befriend me. I found that they were good listeners and were never in a hurry. And they always seemed entranced by the stories I would tell them about the adventures I experienced in our neighborhood and the rest of the town that I lived in as well. My parents gave me full rein. As long as I was home for lunch or dinner on time, all was copesetic. In fact, they rarely asked where I had been or what I had been up to in fact. Even at the age of six, I was allowed to go out on my own as long as I wasn’t late for meals or bedtime. I kid you not.

I met some interesting people on my excursions. And once I was old enough to ride a bike, there was no stopping me. I traveled to all the surrounding towns on that bike. There was no stopping me. And like I said, my parents never asked where I had been or what I had been up to. Go figure.

My family in the 1950s

My family in the 1950’s

One of my favorite haunts was the local library, which was only two rooms. I used to go there at least once or twice a week, even before I was old enough to get a library book. I would pick out a bunch of books and spend several hours perusing them from the front cover to the last page. Sometimes, the librarians would greet me with ‘Oh boy, do we have a book for you.” And then I would be in book heaven for the next couple of hours. I made friends with all the local merchants. Needless to say, the local bakery and its employees became best friends of mine. I was their official taste tester. I can’t express just how much I loved all things sweet, from cakes to pies, to cookies.

And then there was the shoemaker. His shop was right around the corner from the Ben Franklin 5&10. I’ll tell you about that later. Anyway, Tony the shoemaker was one of my favorite people to visit because he was always happy to see me, and sometimes I brought him a treat from the bakery. He came from Italy, and I loved hearing him talk with his Italian accent. He liked to hear all my stories about the people I talked to around town. He knew most of them as he was the only shoemaker in town.

Then, I would stop at the Rexall Drug Store and then the 5&10 cent store where you could actually purchase things for a nickel or a dime. I liked to collect foreign stamps when I was a kid. And you could buy a whole bunch of used stamps for fifty cents or a dollar if you had that much money. There were so many treasures to be found in that 5&10 store. I could spend hours in there just walking up and down the aisles. Sometimes, I would find some coins on the sidewalk when I was walking around downtown, and then before you could say whoop de doo., I would run down the street to the 5&10 and spend that money like it was burning a hole in my pocket.

Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy, where I attended high school.

Oh, but the best thing of all was the Roxy Theater, where every Saturday, you could watch a movie for twenty-five cents. I used to go with all my friends, sometimes school friends, and sometimes neighborhood kids. I would bring my lunch with me in a brown paper bag. My best neighborhood friend lived three houses away from me. We did everything together. At least everything during the summer, but during the school year, she used to sleep in late on Saturday morning, and then she would have to clean her room. So, I didn’t usually see her until we went to the children’s mass on Sunday. I was always talking and laughing during Mass and causing some kind of ruckus, and getting in trouble with the nuns.

After Mass, I would run home and eat a big Sunday breakfast with my family, and then I would be off on my bike. On Sunday,I spent most of my time alone because my friend’s family spent the day together. I didn’t have to be home except for breakfast and then at dinner time. I spent Sunday riding my bike around or taking long walks. Where I would stop and visit all the neighbor’s dogs and cats. And sometimes, I would go and visit all the older people in my neighborhood who lived alone. They always seemed happy to see me, and sometimes they offered me cake. And you know, I never said no to a piece of cake. And they all loved hearing my stories about the people in town, sometimes, I embellished the stories somewhat, but that just made them more interesting. I guess that’s when I began my journey of being a storyteller.

One time during Summer vacation, all the neighborhood kids were all outside playing Hide and Seek, and I was with my best friend. And I decided to tell her a story. I told her that I was actually an alien from outer space and came from another planet. And I was going to take her back with me to my planet. Apparently, I told the story so well that she believed me. Even though she knew me all her life, anyway, she said she didn’t want to go live on another planet, and she started crying buckets of tears. I couldn’t calm her down enough to tell her I was just telling a story. And it wasn’t true.

So, I had to take her home so her mother could calm her down. I tried to explain to her mother that I was just telling her one of my stories, but she was mad all the same. I have to admit I never told my mother and father about making my best friend cry. Because they had told me many times that one of these days, I was going to get into trouble for telling my tall tales.

I became friends with the old lady that lived across the street from my house. She was a widow and lived all alone. My best friend and I used to go over to Mrs. McFarland’s house and play with our dolls on her big swing. Once, Mrs. McFarland brought her childhood doll outside to show us. It was made of China and had real hair on its head. I loved Mrs. McFarland because whenever I came over to her yard, she would come outside and talk to me and tell me stories about her life. Mrs. McFarland only had one and a half arms. She told me that she was born like that, and her one arm only went down as far as her elbow.

But that didn’t stop Mrs. McFarland. She took care of herself and her house and did all the gardening in her yard. Her favorite flowers were roses and tulips. She used to tell me all the names of the flowers and how to take care of them. She inspired me to become a gardener when I grew up. And here I am, the age she was when I first became friends with her. And now I am a gardener and like nothing better than spending the day outside, tending my flower. Mrs. McFarland had a gigantic Weeping Willow in her yard, and she used to let me climb it. And now I planted a Weeping Willow in my yard here in North Carolina. When I was about sixteen years old, she passed away, and every time I looked across the street at her house, I missed her.

Over the course of my life, I have always found my own company to be satisfying. And I have always had many hobbies and interests. I love to read, draw and paint, and make things. I made all my own clothes for years and my children when they were young. When I was thirty-six, I made the decision to go to college and learn how to draw and paint. I graduated from college when I was forty with a degree in Art Education and a Bachelor of Arts Degree. I taught art for years, and often my students would sit out in my garden and draw or paint pictures of my plants and flowers. Along the way, I started writing short stories, and when I retired here to North Carolina, I decided to start a writer’s blog on the internet that was six years ago. And here I am, still going strong. You never know what life will have in store for you and where it will take you. I have lived in New Jersey, Florida, California, and the past eight years in North Carolina. I met some interesting people when I was working for the Elizabeth Warren Campaign. And at the Animal Sanctuary, I have been volunteering for the last eight years, three mornings a week.

As long as my heart and mind are still working, I will keep active and motivated to learn, meet new people, and grow as a human being. Life is short and goes by quickly, so whatever you do, make the most of it. Be kind to all you meet along life’s highways and byways. You never know what life has planned for you. Keep an open heart and an open mind, and a smile on your face.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

It was the Fall of 1991 and we had just sold our home of fourteen years in Pennsauken, NJ, and moved to Pitman a small town in Gloucester County New Jersey. We were a family of four, husband, wife, and two children. The house we purchased was a Victorian house that was built in 1910.

It had originally been owned by a family called Sooy. One of the owners was a neuropsychologist and one wing of the house was used for his offices. We heard from our new next-door neighbors that Dr. Sooy only saw patients at night. The house was empty for eight years since its original owners had passed away. It had been neglected for many years long before the former owners passed away. It needed a great deal of work inside and out, starting with a new roof. The old roof had leaked for years and inclement weather over the years had caused damage to the interior of the house. We felt that we were up to the challenge. 

My plan was to utilize part of the house which was formerly used as a doctor’s office and exam room as an art studio to teach children and adults the basics of drawing and painting. I had recently graduated from Temple Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. And I had earned a BFA in Fine Arts and a degree in Art Education. I was the only adult student to graduate that year and while my fellow students had attained the grand old age of twenty-one I turned forty. Going to college turned out to be one of the most valuable experiences of my life. It was hard work, but I enjoyed every minute of it.

And so our journey began. We began to do some repairs on the house before we even moved into it. The realtor who had been trying to sell the house for years helped us do some of the minor repairs that had to be completed before we went to closing. So that we could get a certificate of occupancy. We moved in the February of 1994 on my oldest daughter’s thirteenth birthday. But we had to wait until Spring to put a new roof on the house.

One of the first neighbors we met were Bob and Marie Batten who owned the house across the street from us. Bob Batten had recently retired from his dental practice and his dental offices were in his home. His wife had assisted him for many years. He was in his early seventies when we first met and we built a friendship that lasted for many, many years until his death. In fact, Dr. Batten became one of my first adult students. Marie was a dear friend as well despite the thirty-year age gap. I spent many happy hours with her learning about her life in Pitman and hearing all the township gossip from years gone by.

In fact, I made many friends in Pitman through The Art Room. Which was what I named my business. Many children who had an interest in learning how to draw and paint attended my classes for years until they graduated from high school. And many adults who lived in town did as well, even one of the town’s administrators.

The neighborhood we lived in was a mixture of all kinds of people. Many of the people who lived on our street had lived there for decades. And they became some of my closest friends. Lois Fegundus who lived three houses away from me was an avid gardener. She was a retired school teacher, who talk Home Economics and had retired years before. Her favorite hobby was gardening and she taught me everything she knew. She shared her knowledge and her plants. Most of the flowers in the garden I created in my Pitman garden came from Lois’s garden. She had a great love of antique furniture and share her love of everything antique with me. I look back at all the hours I spent with her working in her garden as well as my own garden as the best hours and days of my life. And here I am in my own later years still happily gardening having benefited from her knowledge and generous heart. She passed away shortly before we retired and moved to North Carolina.

Of course, not everything in life smells of roses and daffodils. We had some downright awful neighbors. The Victorian house next door was owned by a man, Jack Fleming whose family lived downstairs and he rented the second floor of his house out.

His wife, Nina was friendly enough. I could never understand what she saw in him since he was eternally in a bad mood. She worked in a library and he sold real estate.

Jack’s tenants came and went fairly quickly because he refused to even consider putting a small window air conditioner in their apartment. And believe me, it is humid and hot, hot, hot in New Jersey in the summertime. So, his tenants would often stay a year and then move out. So, there was a steady stream of people moving in and out. Jack didn’t have any parking available on his property for the tenants. As a result, they always parked on our side street next to our house. One of the first tenants had an unusual hobby. He sang opera late into the night after he got home from work. 

The other tenant that sticks out in my memory is a family that lived on the second floor for several years. They used to eat outside on a picnic table and when they were done eating they would throw their trash over our back fence and into our yard. No matter how many times I told them to throw their trash in the trash can they threw it over into our yard.

After several years Jack and Nina sold their house to an investor. And he rented the whole house out top and bottom. I do not have the strength to think about all the people who came and went after that. As an example, one of the tenants who was living in the downstairs apartment decided to move out. They had a pet rabbit and they left it in the shed in the backyard, never to return. The new tenants saw me in my backyard and ask me what they should do about the rabbit. Their landlord said it wasn’t his problem. So, I suggested that they take it to the local animal shelter. It was late August and the shed was hot as hell, can you imagine?

The tenants in the house didn’t have enough parking space in the driveway and they would all park on the side of my house and come and go at all hours of the day and night often throwing their trash from their cars on my sidewalk. No matter how many times I ask them to take their trash with them and keep the noise down to a low roar when they came home in the middle of the night they just didn’t care. At one point one of the tenants invited a whole crowd of people to have a bar-b-Que in the backyard. I happened to be coming out my back door and saw them. I notified their landlord that he better keep his tenants in line or I was going to start calling the police and complain.

Soon after that these particular tenants moved away. Which honestly was a blessing. But, then I started worrying if even worse people could move in next door.

What happened next was the elderly neighbor, Mrs. Foot who lived behind us passed away and her house, a duplex was sold to a middle-aged couple. I went over to their house the following week and introduced myself to her and welcome her and her husband to the neighborhood. She had moved from New York City to our little town of Pitman. The first time I met her I introduced myself to her and welcomed her to the neighborhood she was originally from Brazil.

Over time we became friends and she told me she never learned to drive. I offered to teach her. I have to admit it was a scary experience since she seemed as if she didn’t know her left hand from her right hand. But eventually, she improved and got her driver’s license and her husband bought her a car so she was able to go places while he was at work. We were friends for a long time until my husband and I retired and moved to North Carolina. They came to visit us the first year that we lived there.

But the neighbor who will live forever as a bad memory lived across the street from our driveway. She was the neighbor from hell. Her elderly aunt formerly lived in the house and became ill and passed away. She inherited the house from her aunt. The house was in poor repair but it progressively went downhill after Susan Mullen and her family moved in. She had two teenagers when she moved in but within two years she had two more children a boy and a baby girl. They had different fathers. Susan Mullen was truly one of the worse mothers I ever had the misfortune to know and unfortunately live across the street from them.

Susan Mullen and her string of boyfriends had loud arguments late at night. She apparently had acquired a drug addiction and she had all kinds of scary people visiting her night and day. She left the child care of her two young children to her teenagers. Eventually, I had to report to DYFS that Susan was not only verbally abusing her children but physically. One day her son who was about five or six at the time was out in front of their house he had a child’s golf club and he was swinging it back and forth across the grass. I happened to be gardening in my backyard. She yelled at him to stop. But he didn’t right away. And she ran towards him and kicked him in the rear end with tremendous force and he flew about two feet in the air. I called the town police and reported the incident to DYFS.

I can’t say that thing ever got any better at Susan Mullen’s home. Unfortunately, I have to admit we developed a hate/ hate relationship. That only got worse over time.

The time came when my husband and myself retired and my younger daughter decided to move to North Carolina. By then our older daughter had moved to Philadelphia and married.

We lived in Pitman for twenty-two years. We met and became friends with a great many people. Overall, it was a wonderful experience with a few bumps along the road. And I will miss our house in Pitman for the remainder of my days. It was a difficult decision to sell our house we had put our hearts and years of hard work into restoring it to its former condition. The day we moved away and pulled out of our driveway was one of the hardest days of my life. I only hoped the new family who lives there now love and care for that house as much as we did. And now they are forever a part of its history as we are.

And here I sit in my home in NC in a small development of twenty families. It is a quiet place to live out our retirement and I have come to love this house as well. But, it will never be able to take the place of our Pitman, NJ home in my heart. But, life goes on.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

A COLD WINTER’S DAY

Christine stood next to her car her feet literally frozen to the ground. She had pushed unlock several times on her key fob but nothing happened. She tried inserting her key into the locks and the key turned but the doors refused to open. Her entire car was covered in ice. The doors were covered in ice as were the windows and the mirrors. She tried each door and the same result. Her mind refused to accept what was obvious. She was locked out of her beloved car in the middle of nowhere with no help in sight. 

Her hands, feet, and face are burning from the cold. The wind is relentless and so cold that she‘s having trouble breathing. She feels a tear run down her cheek and it freezes there.

She considers her options. Wait and see if her car’s locks eventually thaw out. Wait for someone to drive by and stop and help her. Or continue banging on the doors and pulling on them with all her might until she couldn’t do it anymore.

Or she could start walking to the nearest house. And beg to come in and use their phone. Her cell phone is locked in her trunk and besides her cell phone didn’t work this far out in the boonies.

And then there was the issue of her car’s engine that just slowly stopped and then wouldn’t start up again. Dead battery perhaps. Who knew? She sure didn’t. By no stretch of the imagination was Christine an auto mechanic. Her expertise began and ended at pulling up to a self-serve gas station and putting gas in the car and inserting her credit card into the right slot to pay for the gas.

Usually, Christine was able to remain calm no matter what problem she faced. But recently there have been so many problems, so many unexpected catastrophes that she feels overwhelmed by even the smallest inconvenience. She decides to try the locks one more time and if they didn’t work, she will start walking.

Now the key wouldn’t even turn. She pounds on the door until her hands are numb from the cold and bleeding. She sees no other choice but to start walking until she finds a house or a trailer. She would settle for a semi-dilapidated barn.

She pulls her knitted hat down over her ears and takes her leather gloves out of her pockets and puts them on. She had them for many years. They were a Christmas gift from her husband years ago. Or should she say, ex-husband? Well, they were still married back then but not now. That was one of the catastrophes in recent months. Apparently, he wanted an upgrade in wives, a newer model without the wrinkles and sagging muscles. Someone who might be able to make him a father. Because she wasn’t able to do that.

He was supposed to get married in June. And just last week she received an invitation to their wedding. When she opened the envelope she couldn’t believe her eyes. He had the unmitigated gall to invite her to his wedding with his child bride. Well, she wasn’t exactly a child but almost. She had just turned twenty- two.

Her first impulse was to call him up on his cell and tell him to go straight to hell. Then she thought that she would turn up at his wedding and make a horrible scene. But she knew that would probably backfire on her. So reluctantly she decided to respond that she could not attend as she would be out of town and leave it at that. And maybe she would plan a getaway to some tropical island somewhere or take a cruise or go mountain climbing and jump off the top of a mountain. She just couldn’t decide. She was having trouble making decisions altogether.

In fact, that is why she found herself in her present predicament. Last week she notice her car was making weird noises, and it wouldn’t always start right away in the morning. And she kept telling herself to call and make an appointment at her mechanics to have it checked out and tuned up. But she kept putting it off. Her husband always took care of the cars.

As a result, she found herself walking down a lonely, deserted country road with no houses in sight. She had been on her way to a town about fifteen miles from here to visit an old friend of hers, Mallory. She had purchased a farm and was trying to make a go of it. Christine was having difficulty picturing her friend running a farm since she had been working in tech for the last ten years. But she knew better than anyone how life can change in the blink of an eye.

As she walks down the road she contemplates all the changes that took place in her own life in recent years. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she couldn’t blame her husband for everything. Yes, he wanted children. And when they realize she couldn’t get pregnant. He started talking about adopting. But she was actually relieved that she couldn’t get pregnant. Because she didn’t really want to be a parent.

She loved her job and couldn’t imagine staying home, changing diapers and doing wash, and cleaning the house. It was the last draw for him and he felt she should have told him before they got married that she didn’t want children. She didn’t realize she didn’t want kids until he started pushing her in that direction. She should have told him right away, but she didn’t. And that was on her.

In the distance, Christine could see what looks like a farmer in a field. She started double-timing it in that direction. It was the first good thing that had happened to her in months. By the time she arrived on the road next to the farm, her hands and face and feet were completely numb. She could hardly breathe and she was afraid she would die before she got to him. She started waving her hands frantically in his direction. He waved back.

She realized she would have to go to the farmer. She started walking in that direction. Finally, she was within feet of him. “Hello, oh I’m so happy to finally find someone. My car broke down about three miles back. I’m absolutely frozen could you please, please help me?“

“Oh of course, but we will have to walk up to my house, come on it’s not that far. You poor thing you must be frozen with just that thin jacket on.?”

After about two minutes Christine saw a farmhouse. “Oh thank god, I thought I would die if I had to walk any further in this cold.”

“Here we are. Now let’s get you in the house and get something warm in your stomach and a couple of blankets around you in front of the fire. Shall we?”

“Yes, please. It sounds like heaven.”

“Here we are. Let’s go in. I’ll call my wife. She’ll be happy to have another woman to talk to for once. She usually only sees other people on Sunday when we go to church. A farm keeps you really busy, sunup to sundown.”

“Martha, we have company. A young lady’s car broke down and she had to walk a couple of miles out in the cold. Could you come in and give her something warm to eat. I’ll stoke the fire and get her a blanket.”

“Oh dear, you must be frozen. I just made some fresh vegetable soup and homemade bread. How’s that? What’s your name dear?”

“My name is Christine, I was going to visit a friend of mine and my car broke down. Your farm was the closest place I found since my car stopped working altogether. I‘ve been walking for a good while when I finally saw your husband. Really, he saved my life. Thank you.

“Oh, I don’t know about saving your life, but at least you‘re safe and soon you’ll have something warm in your stomach. Do you feel better yet?”

“Oh yes, I can finally feel my hands and feet. Oh, this soup is so delicious. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. When I’m done could I call my friend to come and get me? My purse and cell phone are locked in the trunk of my car.”

“Of course, dear go right ahead. And please feel free to use the bathroom it’s to your right.”

“That’s a good idea. I guess I really do have to go, but I was so cold I didn’t even think about it.”

“Oh I feel so much better, my friend said that she only lives a few miles from here and she’ll get here as soon as possible. She’s on her way.”

Christine comes out of the bathroom and smiles at the farmer and his wife.”Really I can’t thank you enough. You have renewed my faith in humanity. I live in the city and sometimes I feel so alone even though there are people everywhere. No one even makes eye contact. It makes me feel invisible sometimes. I grew up in a small town in the North East in New Jersey called Maple Shade. We all knew our neighbors and had tons of friends. Everyone waved at people they saw walking around town even if they didn’t know you. It’s a different world now.”

“Yes, the world has changed so much it’s true. People think they are connected to everyone what with the internet and social media. But really they’re not. They don’t really know one another. They don’t interact directly with people they just make comments on social media websites. Out here in the country even though we don’t all live right next to each other we have to make an effort to know our neighbors. Because you never know what kind of emergency might happen. And you have to have people who care enough about you who you can call for help.”

“Really, that must make you feel safe knowing there are people you can call at any given time. You are lucky.”

“Well, I don’t know if I would call it luck. We all have to make an effort to create a community of people that care for one another. People that we can rely on in the good times and the bad. It’s not luck, it is hard work to maintain friendships and community support. Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a lecture or advice. You don’t even know us. I guess that’s the mother in me talking to you like you are one of my daughters.”

“Oh, do you have a large family? I was an only child. I was spoiled but on the other hand, I always wished I had sisters and brothers who cared about me. My parents died in a car accident when I was in college. And now I don’t have anyone. “

“Well, we have five grown children two sons and three daughters. They are all married and have children of their own now. But they visit whenever they can and we love spending time with our grandchildren. They come and spend the summer with us here on the farm. They love all our animals and they are a great help taking care of them. We hope one of them will want to take over the farm after we’re gone.”

“Really that sounds wonderful. I’m so glad my car broke down and I met you. Can I use your phone to call my friend to come to pick me up and could you tell me someone in the area that could come out and look at my car and see if they can fix it or tow it to get it fixed?”

“Of course dear, let me get you those numbers. And by the way, we are the Rafferty. My name is Martha and my husband here’s name is Johnathan. I’m sorry your car broke down but I”m so happy you found us. I want you to know that you are welcome here anytime you come out this way to visit your friend.“

Then Christina called her friend Mallory and told her about her car breaking down, Mallory said she had a friend who was a mechanic and she would ask him to go out and tow Christine’s car. And she would come to pick her up and Christine could stay with her at her farm until it was repaired. She was sorry for her trouble but so happy she would have an excuse to visit with her for at least a couple of days.

About forty minutes later Mallory was knocking at the kitchen door at Martha’s and Johnathan’s house. “Come in, come in get out of the cold. Please have a cup of tea before you and Christina leave. Oh, where’re my manners. I’m Martha and that is my husband, Johnathan. It’s always wonderful to meet someone new. And today we met two new friends. Would you like a piece of apple pie to go with that tea?”

“I would, that sounds wonderful.”

“Here’s your friend Christina. I think she finally thawed out.”

“Oh, Mallory I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here. But thanks so much and I so look forward to spending a couple of days with you. And now I’ve made two new friends and have double the reason to come visit you.”

As Mallory and Christina finished off their pie and tea the Rafferty’s hugged them both and said, “all in all, this has been a wonderful day. Here’s our phone number please, please give us a call the next time you come for a visit to Mallory we would just love that so much.”

Christina and Mallory hugged the Rafferty’s and Christina said, “this really has turned out to be a great experience. You never know what life will bring to you each day. Thank you so much, and I definitely will call you next time I visit Mallory. “Shall we be on our way Mallory?”

“Yes, and thank you for taking care of my dear friend.”

Christina looks at the Rafferty’s and say’s, “you know my mother used to say when you look back at all the experiences in your life both good and bad, you realize that life is beautiful. I never knew what she meant until now. And she hugged Martha and Johnathan and waved as she and Mallory were on their way to her farm.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Love Your Neighbors As You Love Your Enemies As They Are Probably One In The Same

Here it is Monday morning again. The weeks seem to fly by. I’m a writer by trade. I have to produce a weekly story for an online fiction writing site. The problem is that I’m also a procrastinator. And I often wait until the last minute to start writing. Sometimes I have difficulty coming up with an original idea right away. And as the years go by, my ideas seem to flow more slowly each week.

And this week is no different. I sat at my desk for over three hours, and not a single idea came to mind. It’s eleven-thirty, and I have nothing. My mind is a complete blank. I start to panic. And at that moment, I happen to glance out my office window. And I see one of my neighbors coming out of his garage with his dog on a leash. It looks like he is about to take him for a walk. And then a delivery truck pulls up to his curb and parks. The driver emerges from the truck with a relatively large package in tow. The dog barks at him, and the closer the delivery guy comes, the louder the dog barks.

My neighbor, whose name is Jake tries to calm his dog down. He accidentally loses his grip on the dog leash, and the dog lunges at the UPS guy, and he drops the rather large package. I hear noises indicating that something fragile is in the package. And then Jake trips on the curb and falls flat on his face. Jake’s dog growls at the UPS guy, lunges at his leg, and bites down hard. As if he’s biting down on a raw steak or something. The UPS guy screams out expletives so loud that I can hear every word he says. The dog takes off down the street like a bat out of hell. The UPS guy is a close second. He looks mad as hell, and I fear for the dog’s life.

I can no longer see what is going on with UPS guy and the dog. I run to the front door, open it, and look from right to left. I don’t see either of them right away until I hear UPS guy still yelling profanities at the top of his lungs. Then I spy the dog running into our neighbor’s back yard across the street. I see Jake limping across the street and calling out Tuc a the top of his lungs. That’s the dog’s name, Tennessee Tuc. Now the dog, the UPS driver, and Jake are in the neighbors’ yard across the street.

This is the most excitement I’ve seen in our neighborhood in the five years. That’s how long we have lived here. And nothing, absolutely nothing happens here. It is a small development with twenty houses. One street runs through the development, and three streets end in cull-d-sacs. We rarely see anyone. Everyone has a garage, and they go in and out through their garages. If you’re lucky, you will catch one of the neighbors riding their lawnmowers and cutting their grass during the Spring and Summer. Otherwise, our neighborhood seems deserted. I’m not exaggerating. The neighbors do not talk to one another. Occasionally they will wave, but that is a rare occasion.

The next thing I see is a horse running across the street into our front yard. I guess you might be wondering where a horse came from. Well, believe it or not, there’s a horse farm behind our development. One day one of the horses opened the gate and took a walk across the street. And apparently, and decided to use our yard as a toilet. When I went outside, I found a large pile of horse shit. I walk across the street to the owner’s house and tell him, “one of your horses is in our yard. He doesn’t have a harness on him, so I couldn’t bring him home. He came over and took the horse home. Apparently, the horse’s name was Tina. Can you believe it?

Now, I’m having difficulty hearing or seeing what is going on. Since Jake and the dog and UPS guy are at the horse farm, the horses are becoming upset by the commotion. Tuc is barking, and Jake’s yelling for Tuc, and the UPS guy is screaming like a banshee because he is still mad as hell. Barring any common sense, I cross the street to investigate what is going on at the horse farm. Yeah, I don’t know their name either because I only saw the husband going in and out of his barn. And I never saw his wife at all. Can you believe it?

So, now I’m standing at a distance from the action, but not so far away that I can’t see and hear everything coming down. I feel like I’m watching a movie or something. I have no shame. And there is no end to how nosy I am capable of being. Well, we all have our faults. And this is mine.

Tuc is lunging at the UPS guy who has had about enough of the crap that he’s going to take. He starts picking up random rocks from the farmer’s backyard and propelling them at Tuc. At least I thought they were rocks until I got close enough to smell them. And I realize he’s pitching horse dung at Tuck and Jake. For some reason, I find this to be hysterical, and I start laughing so hard that I almost swallow my tongue.

That is when they all turned in my direction and became aware that I was watching them. Apparently, they don’t think this is an occasion for laughter. Because the next thing I know both Jake and UPS guy are picking up and propelling horse shit at me. I yell out, “Hey, what the hell did I do?”

And I get slammed two more times. And then we all look at each other and start laughing. Jake calls his dog over to him and grabs his collar. And then he turns towards the UPS guy and says, “I’m sorry about my dog biting you. Are you alright? Would you like to come back to my house and we can take a look at your bite? Maybe you would like to sit down and have a cup of coffee or something? You know my wife, Sharon, just made some awesome cornbread yesterday. Maybe you like to have some?”

And that is when I got a good look at Jake’s noggin and saw that he had acquired a huge red lump on his forehead from the header he took on his sidewalk. I had to clap my hand over my mouth because I had the strange and misguided idea that this was somehow really funny. I’m sure Jake wouldn’t agree.

I say, “Hey, I’m sorry for laughing. How about you all come over to my house and we can relax for a bit and calm down? And that is how I made my first couple of friends in the neighborhood. And I decided from now on I’m going to start making a more concerted effort to get to know my neighbors. And hopefully, I wouldn’t have to wait for another brawl to take place before I meet them.

It turns out we all had some things in common. Who would have thought? Not me. So, please take my advice, and don’t wait until people start throwing horse dung at you before introducing yourself to them. Life is too short.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Trash Can Fire

It’s my first day off from work in over a month. And I’m looking forward to finishing the book I started a month ago The Anthill Chronicles. I know that sounds like a weird title for a book, but it is a spellbinding story. Anyway, I was standing at the stove and making a grilled cheese sandwich with fried green tomatoes. I had already made a salad and poured a tall glass of ice tea and a small dish of peach yogurt. And then I plan on eating lunch on my screened-in back porch and watching the Koi swim around the pond I built three years ago. 

I place my lunch down on my small kitchen table and when something catches my eye, a flash of light. I stare out my kitchen window and I see my neighbor is burning something in his backyard. My first thought is he shouldn’t be burning anything today, it’s too windy. And then I see him pouring a liquid that I could only assume was gasoline onto the fire. Since he was holding a red gas can in his hand.

“Holy Shit,” I scream at the top of my lungs. The fire climbs high in the sky and then I hear a scream. My neighbor, his name is Joe is jumping up and down. I guess he’s trying to stamp out the fire in the leaves that surround him. I look for my cell phone to call 911 when I remember that I left it upstairs on the charger since I didn’t want my reading to be interrupted by my cell ringing.

I grab the tablecloth off the kitchen table and double-time it out to the backyard. By the time. I get to the back of my yard the leaves are actively burning and so is my neighbor. There’s a gate between my neighbor’s backyard and mine so I run as quickly as I can through the gate and over to the other side of the fence.

I throw the tablecloth over my neighbor to smother the flames. But the dry leaves all around his feet are burning. I try to get him to move away from the leaves but he’s in such a panic he’s frozen to the spot where he was standing. He is a lot bigger than I am and I can’t make him budge. So, then I run over to the side of his house and turn on the water faucet and start spraying him and the grass around him with water.

By now the fire was all but extinguished. And the smoke is rising up in the air and blowing in the direction of the wind. “Joe, do you have a cell phone?”  He hands me his phone and I call 911. Hello, this is Sandy Hall. I live at 20 Colfax Drive in Benson. My neighbor accidentally started a fire in his backyard. He has sustained some burns and needs to be taken to the hospital. He lives in the house behind my house. What? Yes, he is conscious, but he needs to go to the hospital. Ok, sure about ten minutes.”

I walk back over to Joe and say,” how are you feeling Joe? Are you in much pain? Do you need to sit down? I just called 911 they should be here in a few minutes. Why don’t we go and wait on your front porch? I’ll get you some water.”

“What the hell do you think you are doing calling the police? Who asked you to come over here? Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“What, mind my own business? Your yard was on fire, you were on fire. I was trying to help you.?

“Help, help who said I needed help?”
“Ok Joe, you need to sit down and wait for the ambulance. You are just overexcited and upset.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

At this point, I decided that Joe was not in a rational state of mind. And I was about to argue with him anymore so I walk around to his front yard to direct the ambulance when it arrives. Just then I see a police car and a fire truck and an ambulance pull around the corner of our cul-d-sac and I start to wave at them over.

Two young men disembark from the ambulance and walk toward me. “Hello, my name is Sandy Hall I called you. My neighbor over there started a fire to burn some trash and it got out of control and his grass and all the dried leaves in his back yard started to burn and then he poured gasoline on the fire and then he caught on fire. But I managed to put the fire out on him and sprayed the yard down with the hose. And then I called you guys. He’s right there.”

“Thank you for calling. We’ll take over from here on out. That was brave of you. I’m sure your neighbor appreciates your help. It could have been a lot worse.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I hope he will be ok.”

I stand by my neighbor’s front step and watch. It looks as if the firemen and the EMT’s have everything well in hand. So, I walk back to my back porch and sit down. I drink the glass of ice tea down in one gulp and nearly chock on the ice.

I try to pay attention to my book, but somehow, I keep finding my attention drifting away and watching my neighbor. Although I can’t hear what is being said it’s clear my neighbor, Joe isn’t been cooperative. The thought crosses my mind that some people are their own worse enemy. Once they get an idea in their head there is no changing their minds. About ten minutes later, I notice Joe is getting into the ambulance and apparently going to the hospital. I say out loud, “well that’s a relief.” And then I go back to finishing my dessert. I decide to feed my Koi fish and fill up the bird feeders. I come back to the porch and continue reading my book.

It’s a beautiful day and I enjoy my solitude and hope to finish my book tonight after dinner. About 4:30 in the afternoon just before I’m about to go in and start dinner, I notice a car pulling into my neighbor’s driveway. And sure, enough Joe steps out of the back of the car. He slams the door behind him. I wave at him but he doesn’t wave back. I shrug my shoulders and pick up my tray and go into my house to cook dinner.

The next morning, I get up and take a shower and go to work as usual. I have a busy day and time goes by quickly. As I pull into my driveway, I notice my neighbor, Joe out in his backyard. I consider going over there to check up on him. But I not up to another negative confrontation so I decide to forego asking him how he is doing.

The next day after work, Joe is once again out in the yard. So, I decide to gather my courage and go ask him how he’s doing. But I vow to myself that if he so much as raises his voice to me, I’ll never talk to him again. I open my gate and take a deep breath and walk towards the back fence. Joe has his back to me. “Hi Joe, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you but I just wanted to ask how you are doing?”

Joe turns around and looks at me. “Oh, it’s you.” And then he just stands there and stares at me. So, I try again. “So, how are you doing? Are you in any pain?’

He finally turns towards me and says, “They gave me pain killers. They told me I was lucky not to have been burned more extensively. I know I acted like an ass. I should have thanked you for coming over here to help me.”

“Oh well, I didn’t come over here for an apology or a thank you. I just wanted to see if you are ok, that’s all. So, are you ok?”

“Yes, I will be, and thank you for helping me. No one else ever went out of their way to help me ever. But I guess that’s my fault for not being friendly to anyone.”

“Well Joe, I’m relatively new to this neighborhood, so I don’t know many people. It would be nice to have a friend here. So, in case you don’t know my name, it’s Sandy Hall. And I know your name is Joe, but I don’t know your last name.”

“It’s Joe Farmington, I’ve been living here for fifteen years. My wife died two years ago and since then I’ve been mad at the world and to tell you the truth, lonely. We never had any children. I’m pretty much alone in the world. I would really appreciate having a friend.”

“Well then, how about coming over to my house at lunchtime. I hate eating alone all the time, but as I said I don’t know anyone around here. How do you feel about bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches with ice tea and chocolate ice cream for dessert?”

“I say that sounds great, thanks for asking. What time?”

“Twelve o’clock sharp Joe, on my back porch. I’ll look forward to it.”

And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship between me and Joe…

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

I HOPE THIS GOES VIRAL – PLEASE SHARE ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA- WRITE ON

I decided that on Fridays I will write an essay about the experiences that I have during the week.  These essays will speak to my personal experiences during our new reality of the Corvid 19 virus. I have been feeling a low-level amount of anxiety because of the virus. Sometimes I wake up at night, and it hits me again. And I can’t go back to sleep.

This is what happened to me today, and it made this virus “real” to me. I went to CVS to pick up eye drops for dry eyes.  I purchased several other small items. There were only a few customers in the store. I walked up to the check-up counter. The cashier was behind the counter, and there was a folding table in front of the counter. The cashier is wearing blue vinyl gloves. She instructed me to put my items on the folding table then she picked each one up with her gloved hands and scanned them an put them in a plastic bag and told me to pay by debit card or credit card which I could do from the machine that was on my side of the table. I did what she said. And then I looked at her face, and I saw a young woman about twenty.

And I thought, dear god, what is happening? I felt an overwhelming sense of grief for her, for all the rest of us living on this planet. And then, I felt tears streaming down my face and managed to say thank you and walk out the door. I wondered what will become of us, how will all of this end?

Here in North Carolina, the restaurants, schools, and large gatherings such as concerts are canceled for an unknown length of time. You can order food as take-out and then pick it up outside of the restaurant in your car. People can order their food from food stores as well, and then one of the employees bags the food, and customers can pick it up in the parking lot outside of the store. The dentists are closing their practices for routine cleanings and check-ups and are only seeing emergency patients. I haven’t had to go to the doctors, but I imagine they are treating this situation in the same way.

These changes did not happen slowly. It happened in the last two weeks. For me, it seems almost incomprehensible that so much has changed in such a short time. I find it hard to take it all in. And the fact that it is not just happening here in NC, in the United States but all over the world is mind-boggling and terrifying.

I somehow have a sense of immediacy in that I feel I must somehow fix or change what is happening to all of us. But I have no clue what to do or where to start. I know people that will be at higher risk of going hungry. Because they were on edge already, and now, they will go over that cliff. So, I decided to donate money to the Food Bank of Central and Central NC twice a month. And because I am an animal lover, I will donate to the local animal shelters.

Susan Culver with Noel the Cockatoo Animal Edventure

I volunteer at an animal sanctuary in Coats, NC, called Animal Edventure at https://www.facebook.com/AnimalEdventuresSanctuary/

I have worked there for three mornings a week for the past three and a half years. I take care of Parrots, Macaws, and Cockatoos. There are over 220 animals that live there most who have been rescues. There is everything there from horses to camels to monkeys, lemurs, and reptiles. Animal Edventure is dependent upon donations from the visitors that visit them. And now because of this virus, the donations if they continue at all will be significantly reduced.

Many people who live on the edge of poverty barely get by on a good day if they lose their job, then what? What about those who are laid off and then no longer have income or healthcare. They are between a rock and a hard place, no doubt.

I continue to have some modicum of hope that our government will step up and do the right thing, but I have doubts that they will.

So, here is what I propose, that all of us step up and find one person or one family that needs help, and we help them in whatever way we are able to do. And we help them without any expectations of being repaid.

If we are to survive this challenge that we face, we must do it together, and help one another. We can not do it alone; we must take one day at a time and try and rise to our higher selves.

And if you would like, you can read this post on my blog and follow my experiences there and add your experiences and how you feel to the comments. https://susanaculver.com

____________________________________________________________________________________________

THE MIND IS A WONDERFUL THING

Goosebumps rise on my arms and legs as I stand at the kitchen sink washing the dishes. I look around quickly, feeling as if someone is watching me. I’m sure everyone has left for the day, but all the same, I walk through the dining room and into the living room, and yell up the steps,” Charles, is that you?”

No one answers.” Huh!” I must be getting paranoid in my old age.  I walk back into the kitchen. I pick up some more dirty glasses along the way. God, why can’t people pick up after themselves? How hard is it to bring the glass in and at least put it in the sink?

The dishwasher is on the fritz again. We can’t afford a new one.  Last week I was laid off from one of my part-time jobs. I put a new trash bag in the can and take the stinking, over-filled one out to the trash can in the backyard.

As I’m about to go back to the house, I have the same weird feeling of being watched. And sure enough, there’s a creepy-looking guy standing in the driveway of my neighbor’s house across the street. He’s staring at me. I look quickly away and walk back into the house. I’ve had a lot of problems with that neighbor in the past.  I tried my best to avoid any interaction with her or any of the freaks that lived on and off with her.

I lock the door behind me and put the chain across to be on the safe side. I wished those neighbors would all move away or disappear from the face of the earth and do the world a favor.

Over the past eight years, Meghan, the woman that owns the house, has sold drugs to minors and provided alcohol to middle school kids at her older son’s thirteenth birthday party. Gone through three messy divorces and a string of live-in boyfriends and had two children in addition to the two she already had.

None of which is any of my business, and I didn’t want to know about it, but I had heard all the fights, including knockdowns in their front yard, that always followed the public displays of affection. She allows her two younger children, less than three years old, to play in the street unsupervised.

Now, this new person, standing there, with his long stringy, black and gray hair, no shirt, and pants hanging so low, you could see everything, including his protruding stomach, and the crack of his ass.

When will it end?” I ask out loud to no one in particular. God, how I had come to hate that woman, I know it’s wrong, but she makes it so easy. I called the police on her one day when I saw her kick her young son on his butt as hard as she could with her booted foot. And he flew five feet, and landed face down in the graveled driveway, then she walked over and started pummeling him with her big meaty hands.

After the police left, she came out into the street and called me every filthy name she could think of, some that I had never heard before. Her language would make an Eagles Football team fan cringe.

I force myself to stop obsessing about her and her minions, by starting the wash and paying some of the bills, on my online bank account. As usual, there are more bills than bucks. I pay the ones that need to be paid first, and I’ll worry about the others later.

It’s time for me to get ready for my one remaining job, as a crossing guard at the elementary school, it doesn’t pay much, but on the other hand, it doesn’t have any benefits either. Who needs health insurance anyway?

I walk the six blocks to the school and wait for the kiddies to arrive. Luckily, I love kids and look forward to seeing their shining, happy faces every day. They all called me Wavy Woman because I have a habit of waving at everyone that passes, by foot or in a vehicle of any kind. It had started as a friendly gesture but has now become something of a compulsion, albeit a harmless one.

Sometimes people in the food store wave at me and said, “Hello, Wavy Woman, nice to see you.” As if that‘s my Christian name. Of course, I’ve found there are a lot of worse things for someone to call you.

I wait until twenty minutes after the last morning bell, and sure enough, here comes Joey, my notorious neighbor’s son, running up to the corner, “Hi, Joey, don’t you look nice today, have fun today in school, see you at three.”

He never speaks to me, just shyly smiles, and runs into the school, once again to be marked tardy. I will be back later. I decide to take a long way home and get some exercise in the fresh if somewhat frosty air.

When I return home, I‘m going to comb through the newspaper and the online job sites for another part-time job. Maybe try something more challenging. I don’t know, maybe being one of those women who replace greetings cards in food stores.

I simply refuse to work in fast food, not because they ruined the environment, by cutting down the rainforest so the cattle can graze there. But for a more selfish reason, I ‘m secretly addicted to French fries, and onion rings, and I’m trying not to become the fat lady in a carnival.

As I arrive at my driveway, I give a glance at my neighbors’ front yard. Thank god, he isn’t there, and then I see he’s sitting on their front step, smoking what I hoped is only a cigarette. I rush up to my back steps and almost step on what appears to be a dead mouse. Dear god, I think what’s next, a horse’s head over my bed?

I walk into the kitchen and grab a plastic bag, and put my hand inside and carefully pick up the mouse, which isn’t in complete rigor mortis. I pull the bag inside out and run to the trash can to throw it in. And run as quickly as possible back into the house, and double-lock the back door.

I throw myself into the task of finding another part-time job and keep my mind occupied for the next three hours. I apply for every part-time job, including a dog walker. Not my best decision. I have a total phobia of dogs of any size, including the type that can fit into teacups and never stop their incessant high-pitched barking.

I eat a quick lunch, answer a few e-mails, and delete all my spam, and empty the little computer trash can for good measure. I know this is done automatically periodically, but what can I say, I’m an organized person.

Before I know it, the timer on my cell phone beeps, signaling me that it’s time to cross the kiddies again. Being safe rather than sorry, I look out the backdoor before venturing outside, and it’s all clear, so I go my merry way.

When I get home, I decide to go through the front door,  to be safe. I walk into the kitchen and look into the freezer to find something I can cook for dinner. Not much. As I ‘m doing that, my cell phone begins ringing. I think it might be about one of the jobs I sent my resume. I pick it right up. It’s not about my resume.

” Hey, it’s me.”  It’s my best friend, Babes. God knows I love her to death. But it’s impossible to get a word in with her, and even more challenging to get off the phone. She’s going on and on about her husband’s habit of leaving a trail of dirty clothes from the front door to the bedroom. Which is annoying, but I’ve heard it a million times, so I start zoning out.

It’s just at that moment I hear a loud rapping at the door. I look through one of the windows at the top of a door, and I think god help me. It’s the pervert. He keeps banging, and banging, he can see me, so I have to answer the door.

“Babes, there’s a freak at the back door. If you hear me scream, please call 911 right away. Hold on while I answer the door.” 

I said all this while she was still talking a mile a minute. So I don’t know if she heard what I said or not.

I reluctantly answer the door, but only a crack, with the chain still attached. “Yes, can I help you? I’m busy. I’m on the phone conducting some business.”

He sticks his hand through the crack. I jump back as if bitten by a snake. He says slowly,” Here, this is yours. We got it by mistake.”

I take it into my hands and look down. It’s my electric bill. I look at him.  I say. ”Thank you.” And quietly pull the door closed.